'Translations'

Evanescences

The man looked around him.
Everything was back in place
It was scary to know the past of those for walls, but it was a reality from
which running away was impossible. What was the point in getting so much upset, then?
The windows were stained in red while the sun disappeared to appear in the other hemisphere.
The temperature was slowly going down.
She was meant to arrive soon. -Soon- he repeated -soon.-
Sit on the bed, Wayne stared at the shelter. Revenge, that night, would have
flowed down his jugular vein as every single day flowed down the glass. Night
after night. At Macey’s. Where the good old ‘Al didn’t bother him for a double shot. Where the same Al took away from his pocket not only the green notes that  swallowed his wallet, but also the keys of his pick-up. From where he came back
home drunk, besides on foot. Where he wouldn’t come back. She knew where he was. He felt no regret. The thing that tormented him more was the presence of ghosts. His mind was full of spooky ghosts with terrifying faces,broken and bloody nails. -Don’t blame me,guys – He mumbled under his breath. It was their fault if she’d caught them all,one after the other. Those idiots. -Those idiots of your friends- he added. Cal,Alan and Jack. They were all dead. This was justice. Wasn’t it? Was he to be considered innocent? No. No..He stood there that bloody night, when hell’s doors grinded and creaked with the sound of the bottle breaking in million pieces on the asphalt and filling the air with cracklings,until the moment when the doors finally opened,belching forth their tared content on their heads when the innocent Sarah Barton passed on that street, under that street-lamp. And devils were now blowing on her scars,sprinkling salt there where angels cried after looking away. And now she was looking for them,eagerly, her face was distorted as the glass who lied still on the street,dragging herself along to every street,to every dark corner where  cowards like him used to hide,to feel ashamed of themselves and redeem every night as the first one. But when the angel from hell had come to expiate their crimes and wash the corruption away from their rotten and worn out souls,they cried as innocent children and, maybe, thought Wayne, they really repented,for once, they really knelt with pure and shiny tears rolling down their cheeks that, although big, weren’t enough to extinguish those burning flames that were already wrapping themselves up their lives, getting stronger and eager while consuming them.Their remorse dripped warm and slow down their clothes and on the black tiles of the pavement and they still holding their blasphemous prayers in their mouths. If the coffins had been opened,you would have found their corpses no more blackened than before, when their chest still rose and lowered rhythmically; decomposition had already started years before, on the greasy neck of that bottle, thick as their fear that got bigger and bigger as it screamed,stronger and stronger every time, drugged, hysterical. He was waiting for her,sitting over there,the clock ticked, showing no mercy.
He gave another look to the bottled he’d put on the beside table, the bitter
liquid stagnant on the surface. He thought about that paper-mâché angel with her glass eyes which broke up that very same hour ten years before. Maybe he would have seen the cracks, maybe just a deep darkness. His mouth had dried and his throat was on fire with thirst which dug deep scars on it.
At ten o’clock the doors opened smoothly and her figure,slinky and curvilinear, walked into the darkness. The thin and graceful hand pressed the switch. He knew that she wanted to see, to be fed and maybe, just maybe, the thirst of both of them would have been satisfied that night.
He accepted her the way she was.
She seemed to crawl,as a long shadow, under the door, like a pale,shiny ghost who was showed to him alive. Her face was covered by a veil. When she removed it, blood and time seem to levitate on air,suspended,right on them. A chill in the frozen silence. She didn’t talk as she walked,the yearning was still impressed in her soft and shiny eyes, unspoilt from how he remembered them. As he felt the chilling touch of the knife on his warm skin (“I’ll be sweet”), every defense was lost,he remembered a few lines of a poem, simple words came back to him while everything that used to surround his presence was fading away: “The cemetery is an open space among the ruins,covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death,to think that one should be buried in such a sweet place”. With Shelley’s words that lulled is mind softly and calmly,little by little, He disappeared in a sea made of fog and nothing and uncertainties, in an unnatural calm, unknown to him, filled with loneliness and without any regret. And, for a second, just for one second, the fear that held him and filled his soul all throughout his life since he remembered seemed to vanish and he realized that he never wanted so much to keep on living as in that moment, with so much strength.
The dawn was already coming inside from the window.
Everything was in its proper place.. except for the man who lied on the bed,
who was smiling, dressed in a suit, the sun entangled between his iris and eyelashes.

 

Leggere il post in italiano – Read this post in Italian

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Citazioni - Quotes, English Projects, L&L : Lavori vari

The advent of life

” On and on and on and on he strode,far out over the sands,singing wildly to the sea,crying to greet the advent of life that had cried to him. […] Her eyes had called him and his soul had leaped at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph,to recreate life out of life! A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty,an envoy from the fair courts of life,to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and on and on and on.”

(J.Joyce,A Portrait of the Artist a Young Man,Chapter IV)

“Avanti e avanti e avanti e avanti a lunghi passi, lontano dalle sabbie,cantando selvaggiamente verso il mare,gridando per salutare l’avvento della vita che aveva urlato verso di lui. […] I suoi occhi lo avevano chiamato e la sua anima era balzata al richiamo. Vivere,sbagliare, cadere,trionfare,ricreare la vita dalla vita! Un angelo selvaggio gli era apparso,l’angelo della gioventù e della bellezza mortale, un messaggero dalle belle dimore della vita,per spalancare davanti a lui in un momento d’estasi i portali di tutte le possibilità di errore e di gloria. Avanti e avanti e avanti e avanti.”

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'Translations', ..in lingua.., English, Poesie

Nightmare

Sta arrivando l’uomo nero,
che scivola sotto i letti,
che fa scricchiolare i cardini
delle ante degli armadi,
i brividi che corrono dietro al collo
il sangue che gela nel silenzio.
Un soffio alla candela nel buio,
un fruscio, un alito di vento
ed un grido di morte.
La mano bianca saetta nell’aria
ed altro non afferra
che tenebre.

___

The bogeyman is coming:
He crawls under beds,
He makes the cabinet doors creak;
Chills run down your spine,
Blood freezes in silence.
A blow hits the candle in the darkness,
A hiss,a gust of wind and a cry of death.
The white hand flashes at lightning speed
And catches nothing
But shadow.

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English Projects, L&L : Lavori vari, Pensieri sparsi, Sensations&Thinkings, Storie

-Take risks!-

“What happens if we fall?” Julie asked,looking at the empty and dark space between her and the other side.
“If we fall,we can be whatever we want,for a few seconds.”
“Can we be actors?”
“Yes,we can.”
“Can we be famous?”
“Of course.”
“Can we be eternal?”
“Sure. Everything.”
“Can we be happy?”
“No.”
“No? You said everything..”
“If you fall,for a few seconds, you’ll be everyone,everything and you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted but happiness.”
“Why?”
“Because happiness is for the brave people who choose to stand the pain and face the challenges,not for the ones who simply give up. You have to gain your own happiness. You have to fight for it, take risks.”
“What if I’m scared? What if I’m totally terrified,but I don’t want to fall? I don’t want to fall.. I want to jump. I want to try to go to the other side. I want.. I choose to be happy.”
“That’s called courage,my friend” the boy answered with a smile “to be brave you don’t have to be fearless,you have to win your own fears. You’ve just taken the first step towards happiness,keep going. Jump!”
She closed her eyes, filled up with tears, took a deep breath and then..she did it.
She won fear.
She owned it.
She learnt, all of the sudden,to control it.

SeleneQueen

[ITA]

“Che cosa succede se cadiamo?” chiese Julie, guardando lo spazio vuoto e buio tra lei e l’altro lato.
“Se cadiamo, possiamo essere ciò che vogliamo, per alcuni secondi.”
“Possiamo essere attori?”
“Sì.”
“Possiamo essere famosi?
“Certo.”
“Possiamo essere eterni?”
“Certo. Tutto.”
“Possiamo essere felici?”
“No.”
“No? Hai detto tutto ..”
“Se cadi, per alcuni secondi, sarai tutti, tutto ed avrai tutto quello che hai sempre voluto fatta eccezione per la felicità.”
“Perché?”
“Perché la felicità è per i coraggiosi che scelgono di sopportare il dolore ed affrontare le sfide, non per quelli che rinunciano e basta. Devi guadagnati la tua felicità. Devi combattere per essa, rischiare.”
“Che cosa succede se ho paura? Cosa succede se sono totalmente terrorizzata, ma non voglio cadere? Non voglio cadere .. Voglio saltare. Voglio provare ad andare dall’altra parte. Voglio .. scelgo di essere felice.”
“Questo si chiama coraggio, amica mia” rispose il ragazzo con un sorriso “per essere coraggiosi, non c’è bisogno di essere senza paura, bisogna vincere le proprie paure. Hai appena fatto il primo passo verso la felicità,vai avanti. Vai!”
Chiuse gli occhi, pieni di lacrime, fece un respiro profondo e poi .. lei lo fece.
Vinse la paura.
La possedeva.
Imparò, tutto ad un tratto, a controllarla.

SeleneQueen

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English Projects

In the wake of Sol #2

Previous part.. Susan and Roger, a couple who lives in a chalet, receive the letter of the brother of Susan, with they argued 2 years before. Susan manages to convince her husband to invite her brother for dinner as a sign of peace..

“Roger? Are you ready? John will be here soon.”
“Yes,yeah. I’m ready. What do you think about this?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Mhh..it smells delicious!”
“I’m cooking your favourite dish: roast.”
” I’m already dreaming the dinner..”
Suddenly, from the outside came a sound of heavy footsteps and a voice.
“Suzie? Susie Q? Is there anyone at home??”
Roger looked at his wife then he went to open the door. He found himself in front of a tall man in his twenties, his face numb and red for the cold weather and the snow.
“H-hi Roger”
“Hi John, come on in.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Susan left the kitchen and hugged his brother.
“Hi , little brother, lovely to see you. Oh, but you’re frozen! Come , sit down in front of the fireplace. Delia..good dog!” she added to the little dog which was trying to jump on the man to say hi  to him ” Dinner will be ready in a second.”
John sat on the armchair and rubbed his hands in front of the fireplace.
“So..how’s work, Roger?”
“Not so bad. But the snow is slowing everything down. If this bad weather goes on, I’m afraid we’ll close soon.”
“You know, I always thought that you’d had continued to write.. The stuff you posted wasn’t so bad.”
“I takec it as a compliment,thanks John. I have to secure the future of Sue, you know it. I have no time to live in fairytales.”
“Grat. I was haped you said so.”
“Dinner’s ready!!”
The two sat down. The tabled seemed more happy than ever. Susan outdone herself: baked potatoes, salad, a steaming roast, sauces, side dishes of every kind. An hour later, after the dinner, thay were in the living room eating a piece of apple pie with Delia which was snoozing on the carpet in front of the fireplace, her blly full of all the little pieces of roast that she’d managed to beg with its beautyful face of honey-colored Labrador.
“You’re a wonderful cook,sis’.”
“Thanks, John..So, how’s your girlfriend?”
“Unfortunately, Irina is due to retourn to Russia. That was a temporary gig and she wasn’t allowed to stay,so..”
“Oh,cdear..Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so. You know, our relationship is a modern one. It’s without any obligation.”
“Almost one-night stand..” said Roger.
“Roger!!” retorted Susan.
“Don’t worry,sis’. He’s right, after all. Nothing serious. Anyway, it’s late. I’d better go now.”
“With this weather? John..isn’t it dangerous?”
“Don’t fret Sue. I’ll be fine. I know how to behave in a car. Snow won’t be a problem.”
“John..Look, why don’t you stay here for tonight?”
Roger frowned.
“Well, I really don’t want to bother you..”
Roger look at the guy.
“No, it’s too dangerous.Sue’s right. You can’t go anywhere with this storm. Staying here for the night it’s the best thing to do.”
“Well..thank you,guys.”
“Duty. Upstairs there’s a guess room. You can stay there.”
“I’m going.”
John disappeared upstairs. Susan looked at her husband,smiling.
“I’m so proud of you,sweetheart.”
“Thanks. I don’t really like murders. Send him out with this snow it’s..barbaric.” Roger said, pouring himself a glass of Brandy. He rarely did that.
“Do you want me to bring you your typewriter?”
“Uhm..yes, thank you, dear.”
Susan smiled and pulled out a trolley from the moving disappearance. That was an old desk on which Rogers added whells,so it became a sort of trolley. It got stuck perfectly with their forniture of mahogany.
In that trolley-desk there was Roger’s typewriter.He hated Internet and almost all the electronic devices (although he recognized their importance and pratical comfort). For him, writing was a unique pleasure. Hearing the “Tictictic” of gthe buttons and the funny noise made by the tape when it was running out of space was like listening to music. He couldn’t not write in another way, or at least, he couldn’t write with passion in another way that wasn’t with his beloved Olimpia. He sat down, in front of the trolley-desk. Susan kissed him and hugged him tight.
” Good night, honey. Good work.”
“Night, sweetie.”
Susan climbed the stairs, greetedc her brother and entered in her room,leaving the door open. After few minutes the “tictic” of the Olimpia. Susan listened to it for a couple of minutes. She loved when Roger typed.
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English Projects

In the wake of Sol

Susan was sitting in front of the fireplace, embroidering as usual.
Outside, the snow was falling softly and silently.
Her dog, Delia, was lying on the carpet and watching the flickering flames of the fire, warming.
The doorbell rang. Delia jumped up and ran to the door,barking.
Susan got up quietly and went to the door.
“Roger!” exclaimed, opening the door and hugging her husband tightly.
“Hey..hello sweetie. It’s freezing out there.” he said, taking off his coat and closing the door. “Hi Delia!! Who’s my favourite dog? Huh? You are..yes, you are!!” said then, cuddling the lovable creature with the tail that was rattling everywhere, seriously threatening all the ornaments placed on a little table nearby.
Roger let himself sank down in his armachair.
“Look,Rog!” Susan said, entering in the room with a big smile on her face and an embroided doily in her hands. “Isn’t it lovely? Shasha made it for us.”
“It’s adorable,honey.”
“I think so. How was work today?”
” Horrible. If this terrible snow continues, working will become a serious problem.”
“Oh,dear. Don’t be sad.. Fred and Carl will always be by your side and, furthrmore, weather forecasts look good.”
“You’re right,honey. I shouldn’t be so negative.”
Susan kissed him on his lips.
“I made hot chocolate. Do you want some?”
“Why not. After a day like this an hot chocolate is what it takes to fell better” he said, smiling to her.
Susan disappeared in the kitchen. When she came back, she was holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate.
“Here it’s your chocolate,dear.”
“Thank you,sweetheart. How about your day?”
“Mr. Sanderson was really in a bad mood today. I did proof-read for ten times and then he demanded me to delete them. He yelled at me for all the afternoon. Thinking of Judy makes me so sad.”
“Judy?”
“His wife. You should see her,poor thing. She’s always running everywhere as a waitress. He’s really bad with her. Well, excluding this episode, everything was fine,thank you. Sasha came here three hours ago and gave me this wonderful doily. She’s so kind. I invited her, his husband and Louise for tea, on Thursday. I hope you’ll not busy and that you’ll come.”
“I shouldn’t have any appointment on Thursday. What’s this?” Roger said, taking a letter from the shelf.
“Oh. That’s from John”
“Your brother? I thought he hated us.”
“Don’t be angry. This is his way to restore the contacts with the family. We’re not talking since I live here, which is two years now.”
” Yes, two years during which he’d not taken care of write to you, call you or get in touch with us! Not even when you were hospitalized! The only letter he wrote to you was full of  insults.”
” Well, this is not. He wrote that he wants to fix things with us, apologise and maybe come here to visit us.”
“And you? What did you say?”
“I phoned him. We talked a little. He told me that he’s getting married.. I guess. He did a strange speech about his relationship with a stripper in Queens..I decided not to analyse the facts. I told him, I’d talk with you about this situation.”
“Good. I’m glad you informed me..because I don’t want even talk about it.”
“Oh,come on,Roger! Like it or not he’s still my brother!”
“I won’t accept the fact that your mad,foolish brother comes here as if nothing had happened after they way he treated you!”
” Oh,honey, please. It’s just for one evening. People can change..”
” You’re too good, Susan, that’s the truth. And you’re so naive,sweetie. God only knows what does he want from you this time.”
“Oh, dear,please..”
“OK.” sighed Roger ” One night. And if he’s not changed, as I’m sure it is.., don’t even try to ask me again for a thing like this.”
” Oh, thank you! Thank you! I knew you wouldn’t disappointed me!” she said, hugging him tight. Then she ran upstairs to phone to her brother. “Hello? John? Yes, it’s me,Sue. Excuse me for the time. Roger said that’s OK for dinner. What about Saturday? Awesome!”
Roger sat down and starting massaging his temples with his fingers. This dinner didn’t promise anything good.
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